User:Vasha77/HorlaFirstParagraphs

Jonathan Sturges (1890)

May 8th. What a magnificent day! I spent the whole morning stretched on the grass, before my house, under the great plane-tree which entirely covers, shelters, and shades it. I love this country and I love to live here, because here I have my roots, those deep, fine roots which attach a man to the soil where his forefathers were born and buried, which attach him to what is thought there and to what is eaten, to its customs as to its dishes, to its localisms of speech, to the peculiar intonation of its peasants, to the smell of its earth, of its villages, of its very air.

Uncredited (1903) / George Allan England (1911)

May 8. What a lovely day! I have spent all the morning lying on the grass in front of my house, under the enormous plantain tree which covers and shades and shelters the whole of it. I like this part of the country; I am fond of living here because I am attached to it by deep roots, the profound and delicate roots which attach a man to the soil on which his ancestors were born and died, to their traditions, their usages, their food, the local expressions, the peculiar language of the peasants, the smell of the soil, the hamlets, and to the atmosphere itself.

Marjorie Laurie (1923)

8th May. What a perfect day! All the morning I lay stretched out on the grass in front of my house, under the towering plane-tree that spreads over the roof, giving protection and shade. I love this countryside, and love to live in this place, for here I am rooted fast by those deep and tender roots that bind a man to the soil where his forefathers lived and died, bind him to ways of thinking and eating, to customs and meat and drink, to customs and meat and drink, to the tones of the peasants' voices and turns of phrase, to the smell of the villages, the smell of the earth and of the air itself.

Storm Jameson/Ernest Boyd (1925)

May 8. What a glorious day! I have spent the whole morning lying on the grass in front of my house, under the enormous plane-tree that forms a complete covering, shelter and shade for it. I love this country, and I love living here because it is here I have my roots, those deep-down slender roots that hold a man to the place where his forefathers were born and died, hold him to ways of thought and habits of eating, to customs as to particular foods, to local fashions of speech, to the intonations of country voices, to the scent of the soil, the villages, and the very air itself.

H. N. P. Sloman (1955)

May 8. A perfect day! I spent all the morning lying on the grass in front of my house under the huge plane-tree, which casts its shade over the whole building. I love this part of the country and I love living here, because my roots are here, those deep sensitive roots which bind a man to the spot where his ancestors were born and died. The way people think there, the food they eat, their habits, the local dishes and expressions, the accent of the peasants, the tang of the soil, the smell of the villages, the very scent of the air itself go to form this bond.

(?)Margaret Crosland (1963)

May 8th. What a glorious day! I have spent the whole morning lying on the lawn in front of my house, under the spreading tree which shelters and shades it entirely. I love this country-side, where I have my roots, those deep-searching, delicate fibres, which attach a man to the land where his ancestors were born and died, which link him to the local ways of thought, local diet, local idioms, to the intonations of the country-folk, to the odours of the soil, the village, and very atmosphere.

Arnold Kellett (1972)

May 8th. What a glorious day! I have spent the whole morning lying in the grass in front of my house under the great plane-tree which towers above it, providing complete shelter and shade... I love this district, and I love living here, because this is where I have my roots, those deep yet delicate roots which bind a man to the soil where his forefathers lived and died, roots which bind him to the way local people think, to what they eat, to the customs, the dishes, the dialect, the intonation of the country folk's voices, the smell of the soil, of the villages, of the very air.

Charlotte Mandell (2005)

May 8. What a wonderful day! I spent all morning stretched out on the grass in front of my house, beneath the huge plane tree that completely covers, shelters, and shades the lawn. I love the country here, and I love living here because this is where I have my roots, those profound and delicate roots that attach a man to the land where his ancestors were born and died, and that attach him to what one should think and what one should eat; to customs as well as to foods; to local idioms and peasant intonations; to the smells of the earth, of the villages, of the air itself.

Sandra Smith (2016)

May 8. What a wonderful day! I spent the entire morning stretched out on the grass in front of my house, under an enormous plane tree that completely covers it, shades it and hides it from view. I like this region, and I like living here because this is where my roots are, the fine, deep roots that tie a man to the land where his ancestors were born and died, roots that tie him to how he thinks and what he likes to eat, to tradition as well as food, to the local dialect, the unique intonation of the farmers when they speak, the smell of the earth, the villages and even the air itself.